


like a song your fingers know their way around

by sybilius



Category: Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966)
Genre: (like a lil lol), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Handsy bottom, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Service Top, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, but sometimes your lover shows up and you get to be railed instead :3, lazy masturbation is healthy and good for you, like by mention heh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilius/pseuds/sybilius
Summary: Blondie is playing a show for the first time since his break from the whirlwind of fame. Some of his pre-show rituals are worth keeping.Some of them are worth changing up, just a little.
Relationships: Angel Eyes/"Blondie" | The Man with No Name, Angel Eyes/"Blondie" | The Man with No Name/Tuco Ramirez
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	like a song your fingers know their way around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DanseDan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanseDan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Piel Canela](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549487) by [DanseDan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanseDan/pseuds/DanseDan). 



> Ah, so I wrote this fic as inspired by [this fan art](https://kerugiall.tumblr.com/post/635360244885782528/a-cocktail-of-factors-varying-from-post-about-how) by the incomparable kerugiall/DanseDan. The fic is a trans!mlm fic (both characters are trans), so for readers who might be bothered, some pre-warnings:
> 
> \- The word clit/folds is used explicitly to describe the men's anatomy  
> \- It is mentioned in passing that one of the men wants bottom surgery, but the other is not interested in it. Both men are post-transition in the top surgery/T sense.  
> \- Top surgery scars are not mentioned (they were horny and busy with other things lolololo).
> 
> This is also meant to fit in to the Lupita!AU verse, after the trio has sorted their shit and gotten back together. Since it's sort of up in the air, I did sketch a bit of a backstory for Blondie and Angel's relationship pre-canon. In my mind they had great sex (eventually) but definitely had some friction because of how badly Angel Eyes wanted Blondie to succeed as a musician (and Blondie very badly wanted it too and then it kinda...messed them up). But they got it sorted by now :)

There’s a show tonight.

That thought used to mean so many things to Blondie -- fear, excitement, the flush of questions about what the audience might see. Whether his voice was ready, his lyrics needed to be revised, who did Angel get to play the backup band this time, sound check, which guitar, what were they expecting.

There’s a show tonight. First in eight months. First since the three months he’s moved here.

And rather than feeling any of that, in truth he’s -- bored. And content. He flips the channel of the television from a cooking show to one of the Connery Bond flicks. Then again to a science-fiction show that he doesn’t recognize. He’s never felt like this before a show before.

Maybe, just maybe -- that’s a good thing. It’s not the sick-to-his-stomach he felt before the third, fourth, fifth. Sure, there was a good run in the middle, but after that they just made him feel -- tired. Run down like the thin tires on the back of his old trailer. He doesn’t feel like that today.

He brushes his hand over the couch. It’s leather -- Angel’s doing -- but for Tuco’s sake, it’s a soft worn brown. Nothing that looks like you can’t sit on it. Blondie glances to the door, to the two empty pegs and one with his signature hat. That’s one thing he’s keeping for his shows. Everything else, well -- there’s only so much you can do in a pub night one-man show. 

One step at a time, Angel said.

The two of them won’t be home for another few hours yet, and by then he’ll have to warm up his fingers by plucking out a few of the evening’s set. But there is one ritual he used to have that doesn’t seem worth letting go of. Better than a shot of rye whiskey so he at least feels the part, and having to avoid mirrors for twelve hours before the curtain goes up.

Another kind of warming up his fingers. All told it’s a shame neither of his partners are home.

Blondie dips his left hand lazily into his jeans, adjusting his slouch to get more comfortable. He brushes the length of his entrance carefully, catching the head of his clit. He tilts his head up to the ceiling, thinking about all the hotel rooms he's been in the past three years absently. He could imagine Tuco, plush lipped and panting as he unzips his hard cock for Blondie's mouth to meet it. Or Angel Eyes, lining up an array of dildos with that desirous quicksilver smile, asking him how he’d prefer to be taken. Show-off.

Blondie's fingers circle faster, the lull of action from the television letting the hum of cicadas wash over him. He finds a rhythm, the right angle with his fingertips. A thought comes to mind, a memory. Talking to Angel Eyes about how as soon as he had the money for it, he’d get his cock ‘fixed’ like everything else. And Angel Eyes just pressing his lips on the pipe, shrugging and saying he had no plans to change that aspect of himself, though Blondie was welcome to.

Blondie might, still. But he’s damn good at making himself come like this, all things considered. He feels the heat starting to build between his legs, clenching his muscles to reach for some kind of release-- sometimes it’s numbness, sometimes it’s raw and wanting, but it’s never all that bad.

… then the lock turns and he’s left flinching into an upright position like he’s fourteen in his midwest basement again. Except it’s not his mother back with the groceries.

Angel Eyes takes off that black hat, letting out a sigh and running a hand through his thinning hair. Blondie adjusts his rumpled shirt and walks over to meet him, rubbing his fingers on his jeans. He licks his lips, wondering if Angel Eyes can smell the sex on him.

"Wasn't expecting you so soon," he tilts his head up to kiss the smile off Angel Eyes’ lips, feeling his lover’s fingers trailing down his neck.

“We wrapped up a deal with that acoustic guitar duo early. I wondered if you would want company, before tonight,” he murmurs gently.

“I think -- I’m doing fine. Though wouldn’t say no to company of a certain kind,” Blondie lowers his hands to cup the soft curve of his lover’s ass.

“I could be persuaded.”

“I’m as willing as they come.”

Angel’s lips quirk as he undoes his suit jacket, “Bedroom then. Give me a moment. Take off your clothes.”

Blondie grins and squeezes his ass for good measure before sauntering off in the direction of Angel’s bedroom. They spend the most time in here -- huge king sized bed with the deep blue duvet and excess of pillows, but he and Tuco both have their own bedrooms in case anyone doesn’t feel like sharing for the night. Should he pose demure, or wide and willing on the bed? He tosses the worn t-shirt he’s wearing to the floor and fumbles the buttons on his jeans, heart beating in his throat. Maybe it’s being caught, or maybe the comfort of having someone whose touch is a constant for you is more of a thrill than the songs have made it out to be.

In either case he shivers full bodied when Angel comes up behind him, slipping a hand on his bare hip and nudging his forehead to the back of his neck. The man has a pipe in his mouth, smug bastard, and quick as a viper he has a rope tangled loosely around Blondie’s hands, the sensation sparking all over Blondie’s frayed nerves.

“You seem...prepared,” Angel brushes a finger through his wet folds to emphasize.

“It’s like I said,” Blondie near moans, “So what, you going to do something about that?”

“Hmm,” Angel Eyes lets the rope around Blondie’s wrists drop, and Blondie takes his opportunity to spin around and pluck the pipe out of his mouth, kissing the tobacco from his lips like water in a desert. Angel Eyes smiles, prising the pipe out of Blondie’s hands to keep it alight. Blondie unbuttons his shirt while his hands are distracted. They’ve always had their little games.

Angel Eyes does push Blondie lightly towards the bed, which Blondie takes the opportunity to spread his legs wide in the pose that he was considering earlier. The pipe goes out, tossed loosely to the counter as Angel hikes Blondie’s legs up onto his bare shoulders, licking the length of him slowly, tonguing his clit. Blondie moans all the way down his throat, suddenly realizing this pace might not be fair.

“Jesus, um -- yeah, I’m not going to last long, maybe you should let me work on you a bit,” he shifts upward, but Angel just sits back consideringly, brushing teasing fingers down his thighs.

“I’ll fuck you first, I think,” he curls his lip matter-of-factly.

“All right, all right,” Blondie sits back and waits eagerly, knowing better than to complain. Especially as he gets a fantastic view of Angel’s ass when his lover prepares the strap-on, setting the bottle of lube on the countertop. Angel fucks with a precision that almost seems cold; compared to Tuco, but sometimes that attention to detail is better than anything.

And hell, once you let him have what he wants, he’s so damn easy to take apart. Blondie wets his lips eagerly when Angel’s fingers brush the pucker of his ass carefully, then scissor inside to open him up. Blondie hisses, curling up to bite his lover’s bare collarbone.

“You really were waiting for me, weren’t you,” Angel Eyes murmurs, slipping his cock inside Blondie, easy and smooth.

“I was thinking about you. Speak of the devil, right?” Blondie gasps as Angel’s hips twitch into him. Maybe not even intentional. His fingers scrabble on Angel’s back as his lover gathers him close, pushing deeper and licking at the edges of his earlobe. It’s those deft and clever hands, swiping the length of his clit just so gently as he drives the cock into him that sends him over the edge at last. Angel holds him tight as he goes boneless and limp, all thoughts driven from his mind entirely.

He breathes out. All and all a great pre-show ritual, if he’s going to change things up a little.

“Okay. Come on, your turn,” Blondie pulls away when he has his breath back, “You want me to eat you out?”

Angel just nods wordlessly, desire finally catching up to him. That’s what Blondie likes to see. He reverses their positions, making sure his lover is propped up by that mountain of pillows before leaning down to lick a trail down his thighs.

God, Angel Eyes is a sap for making either of them come. They switch up the order from time to time, but he’s always so damn wet when Blondie goes first, you’d think it was him jerking off lazily on the couch beforehand.

“You taste fucking fantastic,” Blondie murmers after a moment of licking. Angel Eyes swears in unintelligible Spanish, and Blondie grins and redoubles his pace. He slips a finger inside Angel Eyes a moment later, listening to his moans gain fever pitch. He works him hard, circling his tongue and tasting every inch of him, like it’s their first and last time, but somehow, like they’ve got all the time in the world.

Angel Eyes comes with his name torn from his lips, and that’s sweet music to Blondie’s ears. He grins, slipping out from between his lover’s thighs to nestle his head on Angel’s chest.

“Might be getting used to having you around.”

“You can,” Angel Eyes nudges his head against Blondie’s, “I’m not planning to go anywhere.”

“S’good.”

"You're going to do great out there tonight," Angel cards a hand absently through his hair. It’s familiar, and that’s not entirely a good thing.

Blondie laughs distantly, "Don't you start with that."

That seems to give Angel pause. He shifts to look him in the eye, suddenly all seriousness,"I'm sorry. Was that..Why we could never make it work, before?”

"Aw hell, Angel, that was me. Don’t -- “

Angel Eyes shakes his head, resting a hand on his cheek, "You're far too hard on yourself, you can't take all the credit. I was your manager when I should have been your lover.”

“We can say it was a lot of things, all right?” Blondie gives him some leeway. He’s not sure he believes Angel had a hand in any of that mess, but he can see plain as day that Angel isn’t going to take any arguments there.

“Yes. All right,” Angel kisses his forehead absently. Blondie wonders which of the two of them needs more reassurance. It is just a pub concert, after all.

"And I think...tonight's going to be good," he adds, so Angel knows he’s thinking it. Angel dips his head with a smile, reaching for his pipe and box of matches.

"Tuco is bringing Guadalupe," he says once the pipe is lit. Blondie grins.

"Well in that case, I'd better be damn fantastic.'"

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked the fic!!! Comments very welcome thank you for reading!


End file.
